Fighting love
by mouse angel
Summary: She was trained to be the perfect warrior. Love was only a complication. But when she fall in love and falls in pain will she still be able to protect her people or in fact stay sane? And it is becoming all too clear that someone wants her dead.
1. battle

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Lord of the Rings. However I do own the plot anything that you or I cannot find in Tolkien's books.  
  
A/N: So people this is my second fic. It's very different from my first. And I also didn't have time to proofread it, though I did use spell check, so there may be some grammaical errors. Sorry for those. And of course. Review!!!!!!!! (Flames on the other hand will be laughed at, then be unappreciated, then ignored. Just warning you). On with the story.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Caria stood in the tall mallorn tree, silent and motionless. Her sensitive ears picked out the direction of the approaching band of orcs long before they came into view. They were loud. They left a path of senseless destruction in their wake, hacking carelessly at the undergrowth of the forest.  
  
They were approaching quickly. They were louder now and her keen eyes picked up movement to her right.  
  
Caria unslung her bow from her back and picked out an arrow from her quiver. Quickly she notched the arrow to the bow string and drew it back, preparing to fire.  
  
The band orcs came into view. They were just beneath her. She waited patiently as they passed under the tree without the faintest idea that she was watching them. They were looking for something, or someone, talking amongst themselves in their foul language.  
  
She sighted on the last orc to pass and shot. It him in the top of his head and he let out a shocked gasp then a demented roar before falling lifeless to the ground  
  
The other orcs looked back to see what had happened, only to find their companion dead. They mulled about under the tree trying to figure out what had killed him. The elven girl took this opportunity to fire more arrows into the cluster of orcs. Some of them hit and killed; many wounded but did not kill and some simply. She was firing almost blindly. She wanted to get as many arrows shot as possible before they realized where they were coming from.  
  
Finally an orc had the sense to pull away from under the tree and she could no longer see them. The dense foliage of the mallorn tree blocked them from view.  
  
Caria started and nearly fell out of the tree as an arrow embedded itself into the trunk beside her. Moments after more arrows flew by her. They were shooting at her. Quickly she climbed higher into the tree, out of range of the inaccurate, but numerous, orc arrows.  
  
She picked up her bow and began firing blindly in the direction she had seen the orcs take. She was rewarded with a few strangled cries from the orcs as they died, but she assumed that she had missed many, since she had fired far more arrows then she heard screams.  
  
An arrow brushed past her ear, making her jump. Her foot slipped as she landed back on the branch. She lost her footing and tumbled down through the branches, only barely managing to grab hold of a branch on her chute downwards. The shock nearly wrenched her arm off. She hung there for a minute, dazed, wondering if she had dislocated her shoulder.  
  
The sound of orcs moving woke her from her trance. They had heard her fall. Quickly she brought her other arm up to the branch and swung herself up to the branch.  
  
They were back under the tree now, bows at the ready. She too had taken out her bow and notched an arrow to the string. She fired her four remaining arrows and was happy to hear four screams as each met its target.  
  
Caria rattle the tree even more, in an effort to get the orcs to use all their arrows. She would have to engage in battle and the last thing she need was arrows flying at her. It was simple and effective. The orcs began shooting at her, using up many of their arrows. Caria made sure to stay on the side of the tree with the least arrows coming towards it.  
  
Eventually the orcs stopped shooting, convinced that they had either scared her off or wounded her badly enough not to come chasing after them. They continued toward the heart of Lothlórien. They knew they hadn't killed her because they kept glancing back to see if she had come down anywhere near.  
  
Caria could not let them pass into the wood. It was her task to get rid of this band of orcs. She waited until the orcs were out of sight before dropping down to the ground. She retrieved her arrows from the fallen orcs and replaced them in her quiver. She counted them: eleven. She darted quietly after the orcs.  
  
The orcs were moving slowly, still searching for their quarry. They were not very skilled at tracking. They clumped together in a group instead of fanning out. They were certainly not following a trail.  
  
Caria stopped dead when she heard a branch snap under foot. Immediately she concealed herself behind one of the massive trees. The orcs didn't turn around though. They were making enough noise themselves that they hadn't heard Caria.  
  
She slid an arrow out of her quiver and rested it on her bowstring. She aimed at the neck of the last orc. She drew back the string, preparing to fire. She let the string go. The arrow flew straight and true, right toward the orc's neck.  
  
At the last moment, the orc bent to examine something on the ground. The arrow flew past him and pierced the head of the orc in front of him. The orc gave squeal before falling to ground dead. The rest of the band turned around and looked right at her.  
  
The orcs had had enough of this annoyance. They rushed her, waving their sword like maniacs. She whipped out her sword just in time to parry the first crashing blow. The orc brought his sword down upon her with crushing force. Despite her height, Caria was still smaller than many of these orcs. She pushed the sword away and slashed him across the stomach. He reeled in pain as blood spilled from his gut. He fell and was crushed by his oncoming companions.  
  
Three more rushed her at once. They had seen their comrade fall and were not so foolish as to try the same. The first one slashed at her neck. She blocked it with her sword and pulled out her long polished steel dagger, blocking an orc sword as it came lunging in towards her unprotected stomach.  
  
With great effort Caria pushed out on the two swords that longed to bite into her flesh. As she raised her dagger, her arm met cold steel. She bit her lip and winced as the pain lanced through her left arm. She considered herself lucky though. The blade had been meant for her neck.  
  
She took the opportunity as the two orcs who had tried to stab were recovering to duck under their sword and trip them. She quickly put her sword through one and her knife through the other.  
  
Caria unsheathed her other long dagger and faced the last orc. It did not take her long to disembowel him. She easily ducked under his swing and stabbed at his stomach.  
  
After having taken care of the last orc who had rushed her, she retrieved her sword and two daggers. She sheathed the sword, enjoying the feel of the two light blades in her hands. She put a hand on her injured arm. She could feel the warm blood seeping through her fingers, but she knew the wound wasn't that deep. It was throbbing painfully now that she had stopped moving and could concentrate on the pain.  
  
She didn't have long to concentrate on the pain. The rest of the orcs had recovered from their shock and rushed her all at once. The first one reached her within seconds. She dropped her twin dagger and unsheathed her sword. She neatly sidestepped as he rushed her and let him run himself through.  
  
The rest came screaming at her. She picked up her long twin daggers. Her arm throbbed painfully as she clashed with another orc on her left side. She killed two without injury, but then one got the better of her. She ran him through and he fell on top of her, dead.  
  
Caria waited a moment as the rest of the orcs tore at their companion to get at her. Then suddenly she brought her legs up to her chest and kicked out. The flying dead orc knocked many of the still live down. Instantaneously Caria was on top of them, slitting as many throats as she could before they had time to recover. Four were dead before they could get up. Caria was lunging toward a fifth when she saw a flash in her peripheral vision. She rolled away covered her head as she had been taught. The sword dug into her side painfully, but she still managed to dig her original target's chest and drag it along.  
  
She left the dagger in his chest and scrambled to get up. The orc who had cut at her was on top on her before she could get up, trying to force his crude dagger into her chest. She fought his approaching dagger with all her remaining strength. She seemed to be weakening, but just as the dagger was tickling her chest she pulled her legs up to her chest and kicked out. The orc hit a tree with a sickening thud.  
  
Caria didn't know if he was dead, but dead or living he would not be getting up soon. She turned her attention to the remaining orcs. They were milling about a bit not quite sure what to do. That orc had obviously been their leader; they were leaderless now and Caria could take advantage of that. She pulled out her dagger from the orc that she had killed and began advancing on them, not quickly but enough to make them feel threatened. One of them self-promoted himself to their leader. He screamed something in their foul and they all charged towards her. It was a very messy charge. They ran heedless towards her, raising their swords, each trying to score a deadly blow.  
  
Caria watched them approach, unmoved. At the last possible second she jumped out of the way. She didn't quite clear the line of orcs, and as the orc at the end of the line brought his sword crashing down towards she slammed her dagger upwards. The blow stung and left her whole arm weak. The orc too was taken aback at the intensity of the hit. Caria recovered first. She stuck her second dagger into his stomach.  
  
Caria removed her dagger from his stomach just in time to slam it against another. Within seconds she was engaged in a losing battle. Six against one was not a fair fight, but orcs didn't care about fair. She was encircled. She knew she needed to get out of that circle or she wouldn't survive. Already she had taken a sword to her right leg, and she was weakening from blood loss.  
  
She slammed her foot into an orc's shin behind her. It caught him off guard. He staggered backwards. She leapt at the opportunity, and in seconds she was on top of him, dragging her dagger across his neck. She jumped clear of him and the circle of remaining orcs and backed up against a tree. Now nobody was behind her; nobody was out of her sight.  
  
The fight raged on. Caria killed two quickly, making the other three - one of which was the self-appointed leader - wary of her. They were being smarter now, moving as a team. A quick move got her dagger under one of their swords and into the orc's chest. She left it there and pulled out her sword. As the self-appointed leader raised his the dagger he held in his left hand to strike her, she struck just below his armpit. It was one of the worst places to be stabbed. Her long dagger penetrated his heart and he died almost instantly as the pumping stopped. The last orc turned to flee, but Caria jumped after him and caught up to him, despite her many injuries. She leapt on his back. Coldly she slit his throat.  
  
Caria collapsed to her knees, exhausted. She sat still for a moment, regaining her breath and letting her heart return to its normal rate. She decided it was time to examine the damage done. The wound on her arm was deep and it was still bleeding. She already lost too much blood from there. She ripped her sleeve off her and tied it around her arm, not too loose but not so tight that it cut off circulation, although it did limit movement. She couldn't flex her muscle to its maximum. The wound on her leg wasn't that bad; the blood was already beginning to clot. She left it. She needed her other sleeve to bandage her side. It was deep as well, but it had hit fat and muscle so it did not bleed as badly as her arm. She tied her other sleeve around her side and hoped it would do.  
  
Caria got up and looked at the carnage that she had created around her. She counted the bodies. Sixteen. That made twenty-seven in total. The scouts had reported at least forty. Where were the rest of them?  
  
A snap behind her alerted her to the presence of others. That answered her question. About fifteen orcs came stumbling through the bushes. They seemed very surprised to see so many of their own dead. Caria was surprised that they had not heard the sounds of battle.  
  
These must have been the actual scouts. The others had been the main body of the band. These scouts must have gotten lost for they were blundering around looking for something that they would never find.  
  
She had her bow ready. The first to come out of the bushes was dead as the arrow hit him. They did the first thing that came to their minds. They charged. She managed to get three more arrows off before they came to close to shoot. Her wounds screamed painfully as she shot off the arrows; her side wound especially since as she stretched to pull back the bow, the blood that had already clotted split.  
  
The orcs began attacking her, but moments after they stopped. She didn't question why, but took the opportunity to run a three of them through with her sword. This made them turn their attention back to her and begin attacking her.  
  
The relent had been due to an orc who had been yelling, "Wurrat, Wurrat," and pointing to the fallen leader, and who still was. Caria looked at the leader. He was beginning to wake. She couldn't let him wake or start leading them again. If he did she would be dead. She was weak and she was beginning to feel dizzy from blood loss. She wouldn't be able to last a strong attack.  
  
The momentary lapse in attention proved nearly fatal. Caria turned her attention back to the orcs just in time to see a flash of metal come racing towards her neck. She ducked and the sword grazed her head just above her eyes. She felt rather than saw blood trickle into her eyes. She needed to do something.  
  
Fighting to stay conscious, Caria leapt away from the battle and ran desperately towards the waking leader, Wurrat. Wurrat was still groggy and not quite sure of what was what, having been knocked unconscious for several minutes. She pulled her arm around his neck, forcing it up, then replaced it with her sword. Almost immediately all the orcs ceased moving.  
  
"Leave," she rasped, still breathing heavily. "Leave or your leader dies." Her voice was cold and menacing.  
  
The orcs did not move; then the orc who had first noticed Wurrat charged forward, screaming and waving his sword insanely. Wurrat began to cry something to him but he never got to finish. Caria slit his throat before the orc got to him. The orc continued to charge with even more fury now. He had his sword out to stab her. She neatly side stepped him and ran him through.  
  
The rest of the orcs were a bit wary, but they could feel victory. She was weak and they knew it. She could feel herself starting to slip towards unconsciousness. She needed to finish this soon, before she faded from conscious thought. They kept back knowing that she would soon be too weak to fight. She needed to draw them into to fight.  
  
Caria spotted her bow only a couple feet away. She calmly went over to it and before the orc could do anything, she had shot one of them. This got them going. They charged her without thinking, running blindly to hack at her. She took advantage of their haste and desperation. She fought with discipline as she had been trained. Two were already dead. Sharp pain dazzled her as a sword bit deeply into her left arm, rendering it useless. She threw away her twin daggers, with which she had been fighting. She was fortunate enough that one caught and orc in the legs, throwing him off balance and onto the ground. Before he could get up, she was stepped on his neck, cutting off his breathing. He put up a great struggle, clawing at her legs and trying to shake her off, but to no avail. His struggles became weaker and eventually he went limp.  
  
Caria backed up against a tree, trying to fend off the remaining orcs. She needed support. She was weak and lightheaded from loss of blood and both sweat and blood trickled into her eyes, blurring her vision.  
  
She needed just one spurt of energy to kill these and then it would be over. It took all her will power to force herself up from the support of the tree to attack her assailants. She twisted out of the way as one of the orcs tried to stab her. She brought her sword across his neck and he went down. She went down to trip the next orc. He went to stab downwards and she ripped her sword deep into his chest. He fell, lifeless. She concentrated on the last orc. She let his swing at her couple of times, parrying his strokes then she went in for the kill. As he came in to swing at her neck, she blocked and twisted the sword away from him, then she stabbed at him. He fell with her sword protruding from his stomach.  
  
She collapsed on the ground and let herself slip into unconsciousness. Just before she slipped, she faintly heard footsteps, one coming from the direction of Caras Galadhrim and one from the opposite direction. She hoped fervently that one of those were elves. And then she blacked out.  
  
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A/N: Okay I know that seems kinda Mary Sueish but trust me it isn't Mary Sue. BTW I won't able to post for like a month since I won't have access to my computer till like July 27th, but I'll still keep writing in a journal then you'll have a major update at the end of July.  
  
Namarie.  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	2. aftermath

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Lord of the Rings. I only own the plot and anything else that you can't find in the books or the movies.  
  
A/N: Okay so this update is a little sooner than expected so I don't expect anyone who read chapter one to read chapter 2 till the beginning of August when I said it would be posted. But I got my computer back earlier than I expected so I may as well update now. Unfortunately I have like three other camps to go this summer (volleyball, bball and miscellaneous) plus I go camping with my parents so that means updates won't be as frequent as I'd like.  
  
And now I'm freaking out at my computer because not only does the stupid thing not know french, which screws me over for school cuz I'm in french immersion and now it doesn't know canadien english. Stupid computer, honour is spelt with a u as is neighbourhood, and colour. No it's not wrong you stupid thing. *starts hitting computer in violent rage, then realizes that it is inanimate, ergo cannot feel pain and starts hitting it harder*.  
  
So anyways past that little rant, I just realized that I said Caras Galadhrim instead of Caras Galadhon in my last chapter. I'm surprised that I didn't get flames for that but I'm not going to change it now. Just know that it's supposed to be Caras Galadhon.  
  
And thanx to my reviewers. I love you all. Money for everyone, even if it is fake because I'm broke. Thank you guys for those reviews and keep doing so. R&R!!!!!  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Rays of warm golden light shone down on Caria, causing her to awake. She fluttered her eyes open and looked at the whitewash ceiling. She lay back, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun, for it was indeed afternoon.  
  
She tried to sit up, but immediately tossed away that idea as the room began to rock and spin. Her head throbbed painfully. She lay back down and turned her head toward the door. The room was completely white, decorated with swirling vines of light green trimming the bottom and top of the walls. There was only the simple wooden bed with a soft comfortable mattress that she lay upon, a chair and a wooden side table with a white lace skirt. A half-used candle sat on the table along with an empty glass. Caria recognized this room as one of the rooms in the hospital wing. She had spent many years here, training as a healer after she had been left alone.  
  
A nurse came in and glided to her bedside. "Good to see you awake Lady Caria," she said smiling. She must have been relatively new, because Caria did not recognize her. Although she had completed her training as a healer one hundred and fifty years ago, it was not long by the reckoning of the elves. "You've been out for nearly three days," the healer continued. "At first we feared the worst but you have a strong will and pulled through."  
  
Caria tried to prop herself up on her arms, but stopped as she put weight upon her left arm. She winced feeling the pain lance through her upper arm. She lay back down gritting her teeth, her arm still throbbing.  
  
The nurse smiled pityingly. "Yes that may take a while to heal. The bone was chipped. We removed quite a few pieces. It was helpful that you were unconscious or it may have been quite painful. It still may be weeks before you can use that arm again. Here drink this." She handed Caria a bowl of beige colored liquid and helped her sit up. "It will help with the headache and the pain."  
  
Caria sipped the broth. It tasted awful, but she forced herself to drink it all knowing that it would help.  
  
"You should get some rest," the nurse told her. "Try to sleep."  
  
Caria fell back onto her soft pillow. She watched the nurse fill the glass with water from a pitcher that she had brought. She left the pitcher on the table and picked up the bowl. She left, closing the door gently behind her. Caria fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Caria awoke to two voices conversing softly outside her door. Despite their low voice, her elf ears still picked up the sounds.  
  
"I wish to see her," said one, definitely male voice. "Please let me in."  
  
"She is resting now," said the other that sounded like her nurse. "She needs rest or she will not heal properly."  
  
"I really must insist," said the male voice firmly.  
  
"Fine. You mine see her if she is awake," the nurse gave in. The door opened and the same nurse that had tended to her before entered. Caria turned towards her, eyes open.  
  
"I'm sorry to disturb you lady, but someone wishes to see you. Do wish to see him?" she asked.  
  
"Who is he?"  
  
"He calls himself Telmarion," replied the nurse.  
  
Caria recognized the name. It was her training master. She did not particularly want to see him, but there would be hell to pay if she refused him entry. "Let him in please."  
  
The nurse opened the door and Telmarion entered.  
  
"Hello Caria. How are you?"  
  
"No bad, considering my injuries," she replied some what icily. She and Telmarion were on somewhat forced terms of friendship. He was rather senile; she was quick to anger. But he was one of the best fighters, and a good training master.  
  
He turned to the nurse. "Could I borrow her for a while. I should like to take her for a walk in the woods where we might have a little chat." Caria knew there was a catch. Telmarion would not have come here simply to ask her how she was feeling.  
  
"You cannot talk here?" asked the nurse.  
  
"No," he replied simply.  
  
"I do wish that she leave this room. She must not exert herself to much or she will not heal properly."  
  
Telmarion was about to protest, but Caria spoke up instead. "I would like to go out. It would do me good to see the woods and smell the fresh air." The room was beginning to get hot and stuffy. She dreaded the little chat that Telmarion had mentioned, but the scent of the sweet outside air was beckoning to her.  
  
The nurse conceded once more. "Fine," she sighed. "You will need help walking. You cannot stand on that leg. I am surprised you managed to fight with it. The muscles are all torn." She went to fetch an elf and came back quickly with him and a square cloth. The square cloth she folded into a triangle and tied around Caria's left arm and neck, making a sling. "You should not attempt to use that arm. It needs to heal."  
  
Finally, after helping Caria dress and making sure both elves held her strongly between them so that she could hop on her uninjured left foot, the nurse let them go. She led to the door of the hospital wing fussing all the way.  
  
Caria, Telmarion and Anar, the other elf, made their way out of Caras Galadhon. The going was slow because Caria could only use one foot, but eventually they reached the gates of the Elven city. Telmarion led them toward the Anduin, in the opposite direction from whence the orc raid had come.  
  
Caria enjoyed the serene walk. No one spoke. Everyone enjoyed the calmness of the forest. She held a certain fondness for this part of the woods, just outside Caras Galadhon, because it reminded her of her childhood. In fact she had spent many happy years in this part of the woods, up until her nine hundred and eighteenth birthday. Life for her had ended that day, but she did not wish to think of that. It was too painful.  
  
They walked for an hour before Telmarion called a halt. They were near the Nimrodel. She could hear the soft constant bubbling of the river that supplied Lórien with sweet, pure water. They were much closer to the Anduin as well. If she strained her ears she could hear its gentle flow.  
  
"You may leave now Anar," Telmarion told the elf. "I expect you will be wanting to go home to your family. And I expect that they will be waiting for you."  
  
Anar looked uneasy. "But Lutheniel said that I was to stay and help the Lady Caria."  
  
"We will manage. Go home and rest." Telmarion smiled gently. Caria saw right though that smile. He had not brought her all the way out here for a walk.  
  
Anar shot one more uneasy at Caria. When she nodded reassuringly at him, he gently dropped her arm, making her lean more heavily on Telmarion, and ran lightly back towards Caras Galadhon.  
  
Telmarion waited for another ten minutes, all the time listening intently, until he was sure that Anar was out of earshot. Caria basked in the calm before the storm, for she knew that there was a storm coming.  
  
Finally Telmarion let go of her arm and faced her. She collapsed to her knees. He stood looking at her for a while without speaking. To Caria it seemed that he was boring holes into her, trying to look into her mind.  
  
"Look at me Caria," he ordered.  
  
Caria forced her eyes upward. She met his eyes. They glittered with unspoken anger.  
  
"I am disappointed in you Caria," he began. "What were you thinking?" Caria's eyes dropped. "Forty against one. Why would you do such a foolish thing?"  
  
"I wanted to prove to you that I could fight alone," she murmured softly.  
  
"You did not," he replied shortly. "You were nearly dead when Mithore and his squad found you. Were it not for his coming you would be dead now. He said there was a band of orcs ready to rip you up when he came along. How you managed to get to the other band of orcs before Mithore is still a mystery to me, but I do not wish to know."  
  
Caria remembered. It had been a very dishonorable thing to do. Telmarion had had been in charge of commanding the troops that day as the high commander has taken a sword to his head. She had been fetching him lunch as a favor. When she returned, she found the door ajar and heard two voices conversing rapidly. It was a scout reporting a band of orcs. Caria had not stayed to deliver the lunch. She had left the lunch at the door and had fled to get her weaponry.  
  
"Caria you must understand that it is not shameful to ask for help," he continued. "And you need to know when you need help. Call for help if you think it is needed. It is better that we come to help though you might have managed, then we don't and that you perish. Remember, as a team we are more efficient and there is less death because we can help each other if it is needed. Do you understand?"  
  
Caria nodded mutely. She knew that she should take this advice, but she did not wish to fight as a team. Alone, she could manage, and she could triumph.  
  
Telmarion seemed to see right into her thoughts. "You will not take this advice easily. I know, for I know you. Your training will intensify, more to protect you than to help our people. By all elven standards you are an excellent fighter, but you do not wish to heed my advice. You must be better at protecting yourself."  
  
Caria looked at him with him with hard eyes and nodded. Whether she felt that she had disobeyed him or not, even if it was only in thought, she had gotten what wanted. One day she would go back and find another forty orcs, and they would not touch her.  
  
"Good. It starts now."  
  
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A/N: Usually I would say something about a chapter but I'm too lazy to think of anything now so I'll just put these two final words:  
  
Namaarie  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	3. training

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Lord of the Rings. I only own the plot and anything else that you can't find in the books or the movies.  
  
A/N: I'm sure all of you out there in reader (and revierer *meaningful cough*) land expected a whole lot earlier, but I just didn't get the chance. I was away on vacation where I upped my pirates of the caribbean viewings to 6 (see previous chapters for rants on how good it was) and my lotr ttt viewings to six and a half (I could hardly tear myself away from that enormous tv screen in costco that was showing ttt) four of which were within the space of one week.  
  
I now also have school which is becoming increasingly more homework oriented (damn teachers and their evil plots) and so I've had less time to write. Plus I'm kinda lazy, which account for a lot.  
  
So new chapter!!! Hmm what shall I tell you before you read it. R&R!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Good to his word, Telmarion started Caria's training right away. In was not so much physical as mental for her wounds were not yet healed. She was given situations of battle and she would tell him - or in some cases show him - how the situation could be used to her greatest advantage, whether she was attacking or defending. She was also given much larger scale battle situations with greater numbers, and different types of defenses, and she would decipher these as well, for both the attacking side's greatest advantage, and the defending side.  
  
As the nurse predicted it took a long while for Caria to recover from her injuries, longer than Caria had expected. Six weeks after her near fatal battle, the nurse deemed it long enough time for her leg and side to have healed. Indeed there was nothing on her leg but a long scar, and on her side the only thing to show that there had been a cut there was a slight pinkishness in the lighter-than-gold skin. As soon as the bandage came off Caria started exercising her leg, and within a week she was doing more than her normal training.  
  
Twelve weeks later her arm had healed fully, and she was able to use her entire body again. The nurse ordered her not to train her arm intensely for another two weeks, though it was a good idea to begin using it, in order for her not to pull a muscle when she began training more intensely. Ignoring the nurse's two week interval minimum, Caria began working her arm intensely one week after the sling had been removed. It took quite a while for her to rebuild the muscle she had lost while her arm was injured.  
  
Telmarion began her intensified physical training a week later, having not ignored the nurse's two week warning. Caria rose at dawn, sometimes before. In those early hours before she broke her fast, she did many physical exercises to strengthen her body, especially her arms. Although being a female did give her some advantages, it did hinder her greatly. Naturally, she was weaker and so had to work twice as hard to gain the same amount of strength as the other male elves. Often she was taunted by many of the male elves for this weakness. Never did she take heed, knowing that someday they would rue their words.  
  
After her morning meal she practiced weapons with Telmarion and any of the other elven warriors who would practice with the elf who had been given the title 'The Female'. It did not take her long to get back into the rhythm of fighting. Her muscles remembered the movements easily. She practiced swordplay with many different types of swords: longsword, curved sword, saber. It took her slightly longer to regain her archery skill, but not much longer. Within a couple of weeks she was competing in archery tournaments with the best archers. In the later hours of the morning she practiced throwing daggers and fighting numerous numbers with her long twin daggers with Telmarion and any other elves willing to train with her.  
  
In the afternoon, Telmarion had what he called 'special training'. In effect it was a development of a sixth sense. Caria learned to anticipate when an attacker would attack, to know where he would strike by his body language and eyes. Her reaction speed increased. She developed excellent peripheral vision and became sensitive to any shaking in the ground. Her senses heightened. She knew exactly where an attacker was by the sounds he made. Usually she practiced with elves, but occasionally when there was an orc raid she and Telmarion were sent out to practice her newly acquired skills. Usually these tasks proved easy enough, for they were not very large squads.  
  
During the first years of Caria's intensified training, there were few orc raids, but enough to make the elves wary. Twenty years past. Many elves began speaking of a nameless fear and a shadow threat coming from the east.  
  
Quite suddenly the orc raids began increasing drastically. Most came from the west in the direction of Dimrill dale. Very little time it took for word to spread of this sudden onslaught. For months Caria could walk among the trees of Caras Galadhon and her acute hearing would pick up words such as, 'Balin has returned to Moria' and 'the dwarves will awake what should be left to sleep'. Caria knew what should be left to sleep, though she did not wish to think of that evil herself: shadow and flame.  
  
Secretly Caria was also training another skill. She was willfully stamping out all her emotions. Her ultimate goal was to protect the elves, her people. Her quarrel was with the orcs whom she wished to reek vengeance and battle upon. To do this it was imperative that she not let any emotion show, that she ruthlessly stamp it out and not feel or show that weakness.  
  
Telmarion noticed the change slowly coming over his pupil. When laughter was appropriate, she would smile only faintly. When tears were to be shed, not one tear rolled down her face. When she was complimented, she would only nod politely. Although this distanced her from many of the elves, it did make her a better fighter. She fought always for what was right, but never for the right reasons.  
  
But always her face remained in its stony cold likeness and her mind slipped into its stoic state of nothingness. Often though she sat by herself, nursing her own hatred and vengeance, returning with anger to her past, hating what had been done and what she had become, and letting love slip deeper and deeper into the dark recesses of her heart and soul. Inside she began to die, and soon she became what she desired to be: a cold ruthless killing machine.  
  
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A/N: Yes I know that was kinda short with no dialogue or plot whatsoever, but I'm just sorta setting the stage. Sorta. A new chapter that has way more of a point will come around soon enough.  
  
Namarie  
  
And need I say it (probably not since it's fairly obvious):  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!! 


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